


The Mouths of Babes

by followingyourbliss



Category: Garrow's Law
Genre: Babies, F/M, Gen, Historical, Late Night Conversations, Toddlers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followingyourbliss/pseuds/followingyourbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Sarah contemplate moving to a larger home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mouths of Babes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to mswyrr for the beta and for the help refocusing the ending, as well as the beautiful cover!  
> [](http://imgur.com/MDvpO)

“Do you not think,” murmured William Garrow to his lady one night as they were both falling asleep, “that we have been long remiss in not finding new apartments suitable for our increasing number?”

Sarah turned to face him in the moonlight and considered this a long while. “Perhaps.”

“Only ‘perhaps?’” He laughed quietly. “You would not wish for larger accommodations?”

“Of course,” she replied softly. “I suppose I have merely grown accustomed to our rooms.”

Will snuggled closer to her on the bed, frowning. “I cannot believe this to be so. There was a time, not so long ago, when you were acquainted with a very different style of living. Spacious quarters all your own: a private bedchamber, morning room, parlor, salon, and more besides. And now you say you are ‘grown accustomed’ to sharing two cramped rooms with one inconveniently proportioned man and two charming, but very clamorous children?”

Sarah sighed. “It was frightful for a time, when David had the colic. He would not settle and it did keep Samuel from his nap. But now he is much improved and they are hardly any trouble at all.”

“You do work wonders with them,” he whispered with admiration.

“I fear I could not manage Sam at all without you to dissipate his boundless energy. Though, I suppose it does make more work in the mending of your stockings.”

He nodded ruefully and she reached out to caress his cheek.

“You will think me grown quite sentimental, Will. But there are so many memories in this place. Not all of them glad, certainly," she said, remembering their dear late friend. “But I have been happier here, with you, than at any other time of my life.”

William smiled, and took her hands in his. “And I as well. But shall we not also be happy wherever we go, Sarah? And happier still, for we will not always be plagued with Sam’s playthings underfoot, and without his brother’s riotous amusements interrupting his slumber, David will not have so much cause to be ill-humored of an afternoon.”

She thought on this. “And perhaps we two will not be always watched by little eyes, and overheard by little ears, and might enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company with some degree of privacy?”

Will’s voice became huskier, as he ran his fingers along her bare arms. “Yes, that would be a distinct advantage.”

Sarah reached for him, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him close. They kissed softly, then with more fervor.

Suddenly Sarah broke away, leaving her paramour quite distracted. “You know, you do speak true. A corridor’s separation would bring such benefit to us all. Samuel is not three, but old enough now to have some understanding when we discuss your cases. I would not wish him to know so many gruesome details of either the day’s crimes or their punishments.”

William swallowed hard, blinked, and then frowned. “We…we have been discreet. I am certain of it.”

“Hmm.”

“He is in his bed before the subject of court is broached. Beyond the generalities of ‘such and such a trial went poorly,’ or ‘my client was acquitted,’” he said, though he did not seem entirely convinced.

Sarah frowned. “We must consider the situation and temperament of the neighborhood and the ease of your journey to the Old Bailey,” she said, as if they had not changed the subject. “Then there is the cost...”

“We can manage the cost,” he urged, shaking his head. “As you know, Mr. Pinnock has made a most excellent start. Business goes very well. You and I have amassed not inconsiderable savings, and I can think of no way better to spend it than in adding to your comfort. I would have long ago insisted on hiring a maid if we had any place to put her!”

“You do not approve of the way I conduct this household?” she teased him.

“I ‘do not approve’ of you burning your hands on the stove because those two urchins,” here he gestured to the other room “had deprived you of sleep. You take too much on yourself.” She rolled her eyes and he countered, “I know how you have wanted more time for reading, and you did also say if not for the demands of the children and housekeeping, you would accept Mrs. Cardew’s offer to join the Women’s Improvement League. It does seem a waste that your reforming zeal should be squandered in service of making my dinner. Would you not wish for a reprieve?”

Sarah conceded his point with a nod. “And you would wish for that as well. So you will no longer suffer my culinary deficiencies.”

William affected innocence, and brought a hand to his chest in a gesture of surprise. “Madam, you are mistaken. I think only of you in this.”

She chuckled. “If we must have a maid, let it be Mary Christie. I do miss her company, and owe her a debt of gratitude. She lost her position with my husband because of her loyalty to me. Though, truth be told, she may not agree to it. Wherever we go, it will certainly be a step down from Hill House.”

“Well, then we shall endeavor to make our new residence as agreeable to her as possible.”

“You have some place in mind?”

“I have heard of some suitable terraces in Holbourn.”

“Holbourn!” she exclaimed, a bit loudly. Then, realizing her error, she whispered, “You mean for us to have a house? I had not thought we could aspire so well as that.”

“It is quite reasonable near St. George the Martyr, and it cannot be bettered for convenience. There are a number of residences that should be acceptable and within our means.”

“Yes, now that Mother Clap’s has been destroyed and forgotten, I believe it has lost some of its notoriety,” she said with a sly smile. “But…given our circumstances, our ‘irregularity’…we may find the neighborhood acceptable, but shall we be acceptable to the neighborhood?”

He did not have opportunity to answer. They both had heard a sound coming from the next room and froze in surprise. It was Samuel.

Since David had begun sleeping through the night, they had moved his cradle out of the bedroom and into the kitchen with his brother. The children had their beds near the stove, where it could warm them on cold nights. The necessity of attending to David’s early morning feeding and the desire of their mother to have them in view meant that Will and Sarah rarely closed the door to their bedchamber.

Consequently, they could hear the delicate voice of the small boy floating over from his cot as clearly as if he were right beside them. But he was not addressing them at all. He was speaking with himself.

Of late Samuel had begun a habit of making soliloquies in his bed before falling asleep. Sometimes he sang a cheerful bit of nonsense while his parents tidied up from dinner. Other times he would recount a narrative of recent events. At still other times he would stage a makeshift play with the bedclothes. The curtain of his blanket would part, and his little hands would roam the hills and valleys of his knees, telling a tale only he knew.

Sarah and William had not interfered with this routine. What noises he made were sufficiently quiet to not bother David, and it did provide them with glimpses into the innocent mind of their child. Some of which proved to be quite amusing indeed.

“My blanket,” Samuel could be heard to say. “My blanket lellow.” His voice dropped too low to make out what he said next, but then he spoke again audibly, “Gentle! Gentle, gentle, gentle touch.”

He drew out the words with such a familiar cadence that Will pointed to Sarah and Sarah, with a smile of admission, pointed at herself at the same moment, recognizing her admonishments to the child.

Samuel had been enraptured with his baby brother since the moment he was born, and would have carried him about like a sack of flour if left to his own devices. Therefore, they had instructed him on numerous occasions about the soft spot on David’s head as well as the general fragility of newborn babes. It seemed he had remembered these lessons very well.

“Papa go Bailey,” he said. “Can't get coff...can't get...can't get it…market no more.”

“He does seem most disquieted by the shortages,” whispered William. “I wonder, for he does not like the taste.”

“You fed our son coffee?” Sarah replied, dismayed.

“You know he does insist upon doing everything I do.”

Sarah did not look convinced.

“It was only a sip, and he did spit it out again,” Will continued. “On the cuff of my jacket, I might add.”

They listened as Samuel spoke further, “David sleep. David cry and cry! He want Mama's milk. Mama's milk good.”

“Of late, only on the left side, apparently,” Sarah mumbled, massaging her sore breast through the nightgown. Will threw her a look of pity, but he couldn’t help smiling.

“Mama Papa talk. Mama Papa talk and talk! Look Papa's papers. Say it night time! Sam go bed,” came Samuel’s dulcet tones. “Papa Mama hug. Huh-huh-huh-hug! Papa Mama kiss. Papa want Mama's milk. Mama’s milk GOOD.”

This ultimately proved too much. Will snorted loudly and hid his crimson face in the pillow while Sarah attempted to smother her laughter with her hands. They clung to one another, giggling and hushing each other, half in dread that they'd been discovered by one son, and had woken the other.

Alas, the sound of a creaking mattress alerted them to Samuel's having heard them. They could only just see, from the corner of their eyes, the child peeping in at them from between the slats of his headboard.

Sam followed their laughter with a chuckle of his own then listened for their response. They were still and silent, clutching each other's hands.

“Mama?”

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lips, hoping that he might think himself mistaken and lie down again.

“Mama?”

She answered with resignation. “Yes, my darling?”

“Papa?”

“I am here, Samuel.”

There was a pause. “Why you laugh?”

“Ah…Your Mama and I were…contemplating a joke.”

Samuel, evidently deciding that if his parents did find something humorous, so too should he, forced another laugh. This nearly induced his parents to join in, only with earnest amusement. Instead Sarah responded with a shaky, “Shhh! Samuel, shhh.”

“Say joke, Papa?”

“Not now, Samuel,” said Sarah, attempting to be stern. “It's time to sleep now. You mustn't wake your brother.”

“To-morrow say it?”

Sarah hesitated. “Yes, tomorrow.”

“I fear he will remember your promise,” William whispered to her.

Samuel said his goodnights to them and they answered quietly in return, hoping they did not wake the sleeping babe.

“Play Rodding Wolf to-morrow?” Sam added.

“Yes, we shall play Marauding Wolf,” said Will, his voice gradually fading to a whisper in emphasis, “but only if you are quiet and go right to sleep.”

“Yes, Papa.” Then, in a whisper that was somehow louder and more carrying than his normal speech, he added, “Good night, David!”

Sarah and Will held their breath, but fortune smiled upon them, and David made no answering cry. They heard another creak as Samuel flopped back onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh of contentment.

It was with relief and embarrassment that they waited for the sounds of Samuel's breathing to grow longer and heavier.

“So,” William whispered as quietly as he could, after a few minutes. "Will you look for larger apartments tomorrow, or shall I?"

“Holbourn sounds most agreeable,” she replied instantly.

They looked into each other’s eyes and it was all they could to not burst out with laughter again.

“I may have overstated how discrete we have been,” whispered William.

“Or understated,” added Sarah, “how observant Samuel is.”

He blushed. “I had not thought…If I had known he could be watching…”

“He was not harmed by it, Will. Whatever he did see, he thought perfectly natural and innocent.”

William cringed. “Be that as it may…”

“Yes,” whispered Sarah, rising from the bed and padding silently to the door. “He will not always be so young.” She turned the handle and closed it as gently as possible. “I believe you are right. It is long past time we gave the children a proper nursery.”

Will considered her acquiescence as she clambered into bed and hugged him, molding her body to his.

“But you worry a change of situation may bring new challenges,” he said, stroking her back. “Here we may live anonymously, but will necessarily garner some attention should we become people of property? That we may be thought notorious.”

“The opinions of society at large do not concern me. But…” she shrugged uncomfortably. “I – I cannot bear the thought of the children seeing us so reviled. I fear Samuel already comprehends more of our condition than we imagine.”

He squeezed her shoulders in reassurance, but could not argue with her point.

“It’s not as if it were Mayfair though, is it?” she continued.

“I should hope not,” Will replied. “We should never afford the rents.”

“What I mean is that the residents are not all of one kind—”

“That ‘kind’ being your former acquaintance?”

“Yes. But you know, it’s not the titled sort who really causes any difficulty. They largely view our situation as a curiosity. Cannot comprehend why I would attach myself to you, or how you could have convinced me,” Sarah said, smiling up at him fondly. “No, the moralizing of the middle gentry is where the truest venom lies.”

“I cannot say I’ve found much difference,” William said, twirling a lock of her hair around in his fingers. “They all of them seem to regard me with the same suspicion and contempt.”

Sarah laughed softly. “There are neither kind very numerous in Holbourn, I believe. Other than, for perhaps, a brief promenade in Hatton Garden for the purchase of some jewelry. It is ringed about with Newgate and the Inns…I presume the bulk of the residents are young penniless lawyers.”

“I had not thought of that,” Will said, pensive. “Perhaps we should choose elsewhere.”

“Whatever for?” Sarah said in surprise, sitting up. “I should have thought that perfectly suited, in one respect at least.”

“I know only too well your weakness for ‘young penniless lawyers,’” said William, his eyes dancing with liveliness. “It would be folly to every day invite comparison between myself and these passionate, idealistic youths.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

“Some might even be better placed to enact reforms dear to your heart,” he said, cupping her cheek, “and then where would I be?”

It was clear from his manner that he did not mean a word of what he said. This was Will’s circuitous method of attracting her amorous attention: teasing her, making a show of feeling neglected. By now Sarah could see through this ruse, and knew that he would not be serious until he was lavished with the kisses and caresses she was only too eager to supply. But she did not wish to cast off her advantage just yet.

She looked at him levelly. “If that be the case, we should be glad of the support and should invite them to dine with us.”

Will, expecting immediate reassurance but receiving only this reply, licked his lips and spoke in a slightly higher pitch than usual, “Oh. I see. Just as you did invite me to dinner at your husband’s house when we first met? And perhaps you will oversee the careers of these young men as you did attend mine?”

“No of course not,” Sarah said. Will smiled, but then she continued with nonchalance, “I could not afford to supply their guinea fees.”

Will made a face and Sarah giggled, climbing on top of him to kiss his forehead and cheeks. “Besides, while you entertain the young men, I will be attending my guests.”

“Your guests?” Will said, somewhat distracted by her bare knees, where her nightgown rode up on either side of his torso.

“Oh yes. I hope the sitting room will be large enough.”

“Large enough for…?”

“If I am to join the Women’s Improvement League, I will surely be expected to host meetings from time to time.”

Will looked confused for a moment, but slowly a smile crept over his face. His eyes then narrowed and he said, “Perhaps it is best if Samuel did not attend these meetings.”

Sarah frowned. “You wish to shield him from radical notions of women’s rights?”

“No,” he said, his hands moving over her hips, “I would only wish he would not make the kind of innocent remarks that are sure to expose us to ridicule. Or, given what else he might have witnessed,” he said looking past her to assure himself the door was closed, “censure and condemnation.”

Sarah shifted as she considered this, and Will’s breath hitched. “That does put a question to mind,” she said slyly, stroking his Adam’s apple, and then down to the bare skin of his chest at the yoke of his nightshirt. “Of what you shall say if Sam does remember to ask for an explanation for the…joke.”

“Nothing so easy,” Will grinned, and squeezed her tightly to him. “I shall tell him to ask his mother.”


End file.
